This Side of Paradise
by Haina
Summary: SxS ExT Manchester High is drama, designer labels, parties, alcohol and privilege. Sakura is jaded by her lifestyle but everything is about to change when she meets Syaoran. Can he be the one? Meanwhile, Tomoyo is trying to get over her first love, Eriol.
1. Choose Your Poison

**Disclaimer:** All rights and privileges to Card Captor Sakura and all related art, characters and story are trademarks and property of CLAMP, Nelvana, Kodansha, NEP21, Tokyo Pop and associated parties. The characters of these works are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment only. I, Hally Dang, do not claim Card Captor Sakura and all related art, characters and story as my own property.

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**This Side of Paradise  
**_By Hally Dang_

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**One.** _Choose Your Poison_

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Sakura's poison was a Tequila sunrise. If she couldn't get that she could make do with any sweetened cocktails and should all else fail, she'd go with a fine champagne cognac, on the rocks. She never liked the taste of alcohol but she liked what it did to her.

Tonight was like any other Friday night party. Sakura was already shitfaced and it was barely past midnight. Loud music made everything throb; the room was filled by smoke and she could barely see anything, but she didn't care because she already had two drinks; it was sufficient to make her forget enough, like losing her favorite vintage purse, which had been 150 dollars, at Homecoming.

Growing up in Manchester could only mean two things: affluence and expensive taste. No one settled for anything less than the outrageously and often unnecessarily costly. Only the best was acceptable. Even the glassware used at the party was imported Austrian crystals.

Sakura first moved to Manchester, a town near Boston and Cambridge, soon after her father, Fujitaka Kinomoto, was offered tenure, along with considerable funding, at Harvard University's Department of Anthropology for a groundbreaking discovery in Africa. She was still a baby when both she and her brother were uprooted from their lives in Japan to join their father in Massachusetts.

Manchester was not an easy place to grow up in. Filled by multi-million homes and the enormously wealthy, Manchester was like a dream world; everyone had what they could possibly desire and was rich enough to buy anything else. But it was also a snobby and haughty town. Anything less than perfect, less than ridiculously expensive was looked down upon.

Manchester High School was no different. Having an outstanding reputation for college placement, Manchester High also has strong athletics, music, and theater arts. This year, there had been over 20 National Merit Scholarship finalists. It is where students paraded through classes in 300 dollar outfits and packed the school parking lot with foreign sport cars.

When the students were spoiled at an early age, in high school, they looked for other ways to amuse themselves. Everyone used some type of substance, especially, if you wanted to stay in your place in the high school hierarchy. The students were rich enough to buy the finest substance available and with often absentee parents, it was even easier to have all night parties where everyone got smashed and high. Money, influence, raging teenage hormones, alcohol and drugs was an intoxicating and exhilarating combination.

This was the life of the fabulous, young, rich and spoiled-rotten.

She chuckled in spite of herself; if only her father, the Harvard professor, could see her now. His baby girl now reduced to _this_. Some life.

Sakura was vaguely aware of the pale carpet she sat on, the two empty highball glasses beside her, and the swirl of people around her. What was left of her dress—it had been specially ordered from New York City designer for the Homecoming dance—was wrinkled and scrunched about her knees as a pile of pink chiffon. Her hair, which she had spent 250 dollars to get done in Boston, was falling apart like a melting ice sculpture.

Under the heavy haze of cocktails, everything was coming undone.

"Oh, fuck it," she muttered and tried to get up from her seat on the floor. Sakura balanced herself slowly, still tipsy, and started to look for her hot pink stilettos which had disappeared somewhere between her first and second drink. "Hey, Tomoyo, let's go. This party's getting lame," she screamed against the music.

"Hm?" someone made a sound behind her.

Sakura spun around to see her best friend collapsed on a leather armchair. Tomoyo Daidouji, the single heiress to a billion dollar toy industry, was a sight to behold. She has beautiful purple eyes, jet black hair, and a body of a runaway model. Tomoyo's poison had always been red wine; it went down much smoother. In her right hand, she was still swirling a half full wineglass. The wine made her soft and pliant. Despite the dim light, Sakura noticed a tear at the hem of Tomoyo's black silk tea-length dress.

Tomoyo absentmindedly touched the rip in her skirts. "I had some fun with Mike earlier," she said in her mild indifferent voice, a soft drawl, "I happened to like this dress. What a shame." Tomoyo took another sip of wine. "My house is free," she added coldly.

Tomoyo was beautiful, gifted, and full of disdain. She didn't give a shit about anything, completely detached from everything. Tomoyo was the quintessential ice queen: aloof and contemptuous.

"Fine," Sakura replied, trying hard to concentrate. "Where are KT and Alex?"

Tomoyo had gotten up from the armchair. She sat down the wine glass on the table. "With Emma," Tomoyo nodded to their direction. She looked up at Sakura and gave her a small smile, somehow it still seemed rigid. "I'll call the limo, you get them."

Sakura complied. She made her way across the large living room, careful to not trip over the people who have already passed out but did anyway. "Fuck," she said when she stumbled on top of a black tuxedo—wait, it was one of her classmates, only she couldn't tell which one.

"Hey, bitch," he protested, his speech slurred. "Watch where you are going!"

Sakura straightened, struggling to keep her mind from spinning out of control. "Piss off!" she shot back. But her words were lost on him as he busied himself with taking another drag of pot.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. For moments, she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. She looked around for a reminder of her task. Then she saw her date, Christian, making out with some red-head she couldn't see.

"Typical jackass," she muttered. Normally, she'd feel betrayed. Funny, how the cocktails made her insensitive. She didn't give a damn what Christian did; it felt good.

When Sakura finally found her friends, the three of them were leaning against the wall on the floor.

"C'mon," Sakura screamed over the loud rock music. "Let's get out of here."

KT stirred and looked up at Sakura. "God, you look like shit," she commented and bent over laughing. KT's poison was vodka and weed. It was a heady mix and made her burst out in laughter spontaneously.

KT (which stands for Kira-Tiffany) Thompson was the oldest child of two top cancer specialists, both of whom worked at Brigham and Women's in Boston. KT's mother was also a teaching affiliate for Harvard Medical. Her parents were rarely home, pulling triple shifts at the hospital, and it made KT bitter, cynical, and sarcastic. KT has a lean and petite figure. She had amazing hazel eyes and long, voluminous dirty blonde hair that was always expertly curled.

Only after Tomoyo, it was KT whom Sakura felt closest too. KT was brutally honest about everything, almost to a point of being cruel, and didn't take crap from anyone. But Sakura appreciated that from KT. Sakura had enough deceit from everyone else she knew.

Sakura pulled KT up from the floor and continued to drag Alex from her seat. "Damn girl," KT exclaimed. "Did you like gain weight?"

That comment snapped Alex out of her daze. "Like no!" she retorted loudly, "who turned you on bitch mode?"

Alexandra Petrovsky was the youngest daughter of a famous retired model and a professional photographer. Her parent underwent a messy and very public divorce last year which took an ugly tow on her. Alex rarely drank, rather her poison was weed. It went down easy and dulled any unpleasantness. Apparently, or so she claimed, it also helped to control her weight.

Of their group of friends, Alex was the quietest. She was self-conscious and anxious, but she had her mother's stunning model look. Alex had striking ice-blue eyes and long straight black hair that seemed only possible in shampoo commercials.

Alex crushed her joint in a crystal ashtray by her feet. "Where are we like going?"

"Tomoyo's," Sakura replied and turned to Emma. "Get up, c'mon."

Emma was lying flat on the floor, her eyes cloudy. She was muttering something incomprehensively.

KT laughed again. "Don't brother," she told Sakura. "She's like so fucking wasted."

Emma York was the experimenter. She had experience with countless different combination of alcohol and drugs. Although Emma would never admit it, but her ultimate poison was cocaine. She did limit herself, one of the rare limits she has, because the crack made her gain weight and the high was definitely not worth that much.

Emma's family was minor British nobility. Her father was a top international attorney and jetted back and forth between London, New York and Boston. Her mother, the trophy wife, was never home, instead she traveled the world with other unhappy wives of Manchester and spent ridiculous amounts of money. Emma often felt neglected and abandoned, so she made up for it by always being the center of attention and the life of the party. She was arrogant, narcissistic, loud, and excitable; and she swore like a sailor. But like the rest of her friends and the students of Manchester High, she was pretty and skinny, with hazel eyes and curly brown hair which she straightened every morning.

"Just leave her." Alex was stoned and couldn't think straight.

The prospect was tempting of a minute. "Guys, you know that we, like, can't do that," Sakura said and frowned. She bent down and tugged at Emma's arm.

"Fucking stop it!" Emma protested in a garbled speech.

It took another five minutes to coax Emma to stand up. KT and Sakura half-carried and half-walked Emma out of the smoke infested party, both careful to not trip over each other's evening gowns.

Sakura suddenly realized how much she hated everything. Homecoming was a complete disaster and the party was slowly digressing into a drunken orgy. Her date ditched her and her friends' dates were no where to be seen. For a brief moment she hated Christian for cheating on her like that; at least he should have had the decency to wait until tomorrow when he was longer her date. Then that hate dissolved into self-loathing. Shit, she needed to get another drink in the limo.

Tomoyo was waiting outside on the front steps. Sakura slammed shut the double French doors and looked back at the expansive French-eclectic style home. She had forgotten who it belonged to but she wanted to get out of the smoke and music and people.

As the five of them piled into the white stretch limo, stumbling over each other, Sakura noticed how outrageous they looked all dressed up in their luxurious designer gowns that were dirtied and wrinkled out of recognition; their make-up running and perfectly styled hair distorted into unsightly forms. But she didn't care; her better judgment along with her reasoning were gone hours ago.

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**Author's Note:** I wanted to write something real for once. The backdrop of this story is based my own life, my own friends, my own experiences. I grew up in a town, much like Manchester, outside of Boston. Manchester is not an actual place; it is my own spoof version of my own hometown and my own high school. Otherwise all other references are real. Recently, I noticed that there were quite a few stories out there that romanticized the lifestyle of the young and rich, but in reality it is nothing like it. Consider this an insider look—albeit, slightly exaggerated for the right satirical effect.

I'm not much a SxS writer but I really felt that this story would work better with Sakura. This first chapter is the exposition, so just bear with me a little while to go on with the plot.

Tequila sunrise is a very sweet but potent cocktail. Cognac is a special type of brandy, and fine champagne means that it is aged longer (if I remember correctly, something like 17 years) and has a richer taste. Usually, it is bad to drink cognac on the rocks (with ice) because it dilutes the rich flavor—which goes back to the fact that Sakura hates the taste of alcohol. Shitfaced, smashed, wasted is slang for being drunk.

I'm not quite sure if this story is suppose to be rated M (I really think it hinges between a T and M); there is a lot of swearing and drinking and all that jazz, but the story is about girls who are high school juniors (or at least that's what you'll find out later) and that's 16 to 17 year olds. It seemed a little drastic. I knew about this type of "activities" when I was a freshman so I wouldn't be offended or nervous about what goes on. But, yet again, I did grew up in a place like Manchester. I can't speak for your life or your preferences, so I'm sorry if you are upset by any part of this story. It was not my intention.

As a final note: **_please, _do not do drugs or drink!** It's bad for you and, trust me, it's not worth it in the end.

If you can any questions, comments, please review before you leave.

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Revised 07-10-06. 


	2. Keeping Up Appearances

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**Two.**_Keeping Up Appearances_

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In a town like Manchester, there were only two things that mattered: money and beauty. Since money was never in shortage, it was beauty that was everyone's obsession.

For the female students of Manchester High, it was unthinkable to be anything but flawless like the girls in the fashion magazines they worshipped. They were equipped with designer labels, high end cosmetics, and expensive accessories. Everyone needed to be beautiful and thin, because anything less was intolerable to them—because beauty was everything. So the girls experimented with dangerous diet pills and bizarre diets in order to maintain their size 4 figures. Half the student body had an eating disorder and the other half was depressed; no one cared as long as you were beautiful.

It was the morning after Homecoming and everyone was trying to hide their hangovers, bloodshot eyes, and fatigued complexions. They felt like shit a hundred times over, but it was more important to look their best even when it was their worst. The rule was simple: feel like shit, just don't look it.

It was about half past noon, Sakura and her friends had finally slept off enough alcohol to have stopped gagging. They stood in a line in Tomoyo's boudoir. Tomoyo's boudoir was at the envy of everyone; on Tomoyo's fourteenth birthday, Tomoyo's mother had the room adjacent to her bedroom converted to her own personal boudoir—complete with a wall of mirrors, and not to mention, endless closet space. The girls were in front of a wall of mirrors—preening, of course. First came the blue bottles of Clinque makeup remover and handfuls of cotton balls. Then the five of them passed around eye drops to take care of redness.

Emma was applying Lancôme concealer on her forehead. "You totally should have been like, fuck you asshole," she said decidedly and looked at Sakura through the mirror. Sakura had just recounted her date's intolerable behavior last night or at least as much of it as she could remember.

"I mean like, that's messed up. Julie's not even pretty," Alex added as she brushed on Mac powder foundation.

"She's a slut," KT said with a cool disdain. "Don't even waste time on him, Sakura. You can do _so_ much better. Fuck him." She brushed her dirty blonde hair, carefully smoothing the wavy curls.

Tomoyo was leaning close to the mirror, expertly lining her eyes with Chanel midnight black pencil eyeliner. "Christian's a fuck face, we all know that. The only reason he gets around is because he captains the soccer team," she said dryly.

Emma nodded, now dabbing on Alex's foundation. "Julie's not even a natural redhead. She goes to a fucking salon in Boston to have her hair dyed every month for three hundred dollars."

In the light of day, Sakura had to admit, everything was not as insignificant as it was at night when she had been completely wasted. Everything had been blurred and pushed into the background. She liked it that way, because, although she didn't want to give a shit about Christian or Julie or whatever they had done together last night, she did. She shook off the feeling. Fuck him, fuck Julie, fuck everything.

"You guys are right and I don't give a shit," Sakura replied coolly, acting as though she really didn't care. She deftly applied a light shade of Dior silver eye shadow. She smiled into the mirror—it was her trademark smile.

Her reflection was of a green eyed young girl she didn't even recognize. There were no traces of a hangover, no traces of anger or resentment. Everyone was so fake that it made her sick, yet she continued to smile. Her friends were nasty and dissed everyone else any chance they had, but the entire school was this way so everyone kept doing it. The girls were especially vicious to each other. They were still like a group of kindergarten children throwing mud and pulling each other's hair, only now they threw insults and stole each other's boyfriends.

"Of course we're right, darling," KT smiled back trimly. She was adjusting her Lacoste polo, straightening the popped collar. She was wearing a strand of white pearls with matching pearl studs. She looked like she had just walked out of a country club luncheon.

Emma leaned closer to the mirror, carefully putting in red stoned earrings. "Tomoyo, I saw you with Mike last night," she smiled. Emma was always the one for gossip. "You gotta spill."

"Nothing happened really, just had some fun. We made out a little. It's nothing serious." This was the typical Tomoyo reply. It was no secret that every straight guy at Manchester had the hots for Tomoyo. She never took any of her myriad of boyfriends seriously. Most of them lasted only a few weeks but that only made her more appealing to the male population.

"I heard like he's been trying to get with you ever since the sophomore semi," Emma pressed on. "He even dumped Cindy last weekend, just before Homecoming."

"No!" Alex suddenly exclaimed. "Cindy Sullivan? Mike's been with her since seventh grade! How did it happen?"

Sakura frowned. Gossip was the only viable currency amongst the students of Manchester.

"Apparently, Mike just like cancelled their movie date last Saturday night and told her he like never wanted to see a movie with her, like ever again. Cindy like cried for days," Emma explained, intently narrating every detail of the tragedy. "That's why she wasn't in school half of last week. She's like so heartbroken. No one knew about the break up until like Cindy's best friend told everyone at Homecoming."

"It was bound to happen, you know," KT said. "It's unnatural to date someone you've known since like the seventh grade. Like come on, there's someone better out there."

Emma shrugged. "Mike's like cheated on her several times before. It wasn't like some big secret."

Sakura gave a dry laugh despite herself. Emma was right. There was no such thing as secrets at Manchester High. If anything happened to anyone, everyone was bound to know.

Alex was applying Talika mascara to her eyelashes. "Seems like Mike's like ready to move on to bigger and better things, Tomoyo," Alex said and gave Tomoyo a significant look.

"Yeah," Sakura agreed wryly. "Along with every other guy in our grade."

Tomoyo shook her head and started to put away all her makeup in her Ralph Lauren bag. "Mike's a jerk and he's a player—totally, not interested," she said coolly. She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her makeup was flawless and understated. She was dressed in a casual BCBG dress yet still managed to look classy and elegant. Under the bright lights of the boudoir, Tomoyo looked every bit of the multi-million heiress she was; she was forever upon that pedestal.

Not interested, that was Tomoyo's catchphrase. KT crooked a perfectly waxed eyebrow. A moment of awkward silence passed between the four girls.

"Whatever," Alex finally said, quickly changing the subject. "You guys wanna like grab some food?" By food, of course, she meant coffee and half a bagel—no cream cheese.

The girls nodded in agreement. "I'll drive," KT offered. She picked up her keys to her Lexus SUV, jingling on a silver Tiffany's keychain, and J. Crew tote and headed for the door.

Sakura leaned into the mirror and quickly applied her favorite shade of Dior Addict lip gloss. Suddenly, she was alone in Tomoyo's expansive boudoir. The room was brightly lit and there were shelves upon shelves of clothe and shoes and accessories behind her. Yet Sakura could not feel but the tinge of hollowness beneath the glamour.

She peered closely at her reflection. There was a stranger staring back at her. A stranger dressed in a stunning outfit from Anthropologie with expertly applied makeup. But no amount of eye makeup could hide the glassiness in her eyes. Sakura suddenly wondered how they got here; how her best friend in the world changed into this disdainful, cold, distant shell of a girl; how she has come to be a stranger to herself? Who was this beautiful, sad girl in the mirror?

Sakura had never considered herself to be beautiful. She didn't possess a timeless, classic beauty like Tomoyo. She wasn't stunningly gorgeous like Alex. She didn't exude sex appeal like Emma. She wasn't effortlessly elegant like KT. In ninth grade, several boys had asked her out and she didn't know why. She always told Tomoyo half-jokingly, "I don't know what they could possibly see in me." Over time, she came to accept that she was, indeed, beautiful like all her friends, although it took a lot of persuasion.

Sakura was average height. She had always had trouble with maintaining her weight because of her fondness for sweets. She has dark straight auburn hair that was a little longer than shoulder length. Her eyes are a clear green, which her father had always told her that she had gotten from her mother. Her mother, oh her mother. Sakura had never truly met her mother. She had died soon after giving birth. The only memories of her were from stories her father and brother told and old photographs. Nadeshiko Kinomoto had been a model, Sakura was told, and she had beautiful flowing wavy hair and green eyes. She often wondered what it must have felt like to see her mother in person. When she talked into a room, would everyone be taken in awe by her beauty?

Sakura looked into the reflection of the stranger in front of her, into the blood-shot green eyes that should have been familiar but would never be. How did she get here?

"Hey, Sakura," KT was calling from the outside hallway. "You coming or what?"

She quickly shook off the feeling of numbness that settled under her skin. "Um, yeah," she called back. "Hold on a sec." Sakura grabbed her Coach Hamptons handbag from the counter and dashed out.

When she saw KT, she was smiling again. It was her trademark smile, a smile that told everyone that everything was wonderful—everyone that is, except herself.

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**Author's Note:** I have to admit, writing this story has been sort of a relief for me. Now that I am in college, I look back on these years spent at my high school and I want to laugh at it. It had been so ridiculous. The unwritten "rules," the mind games, the drama.

After reading this chapter over, I noticed that I had subconsciously based Tomoyo's character on one of my best friends from high school. Her history pretty much mirrors my friend's, as it will be made clear in the next chapter. Being the avid ExT shipper I am, I couldn't help but plan an ExT subplot along with SxS. I think it would be fun.

Eating disorders are a very, very common thing at high schools. It is not an exaggeration. I could probably count on two hands how many insane diets some of my friends had gone on. A lot of the people I know are bulimic or anorexic or both. It's really not a joke and it is so common. A lot of girls also abuse diet pills and more regularly, laxatives. Personally, I never really had a problem with weight because, luckily (or maybe unfortunately), my family have always been on the underweight side. In high school, because all my friends complained and worried about their weight all the time, it rubbed off on me. I need to have a flat stomach; my thighs were disgusting; etc. My normal weight was at around 100 pounds and I wanted to weigh in at 90; so I wake up in the morning and weight myself, if I was over 100, I wouldn't eat lunch. It was a vicious cycle that never ended. It was really stupid because I wasn't fat—it took me a long time to believe this.

Anyways, the point is: weight is not a big deal. It took me a long time to understand that it was really unhealthy and it was totally, totally pointless. I feel like I'm preaching so I'll stop here.

Please review before you leave.

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_Final edit:_ Jan. 01. 07. 


	3. Happy In Another Life Part I

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**Three.**_Happy In Another Life (Part I)_

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It all started at the end of ninth grade. Emma was going out with a junior, Justin… something. Emma was always the most outgoing of all the girls. Even in ninth grade, she didn't look like a young girl. Emma exuded self-confidence; she could walk into a room and make everyone want her. Of course, her British accent helped.

Emma's philosophy of life was quite simple: always have a good time. Justin was one of those preppy popular boys who looked like they walked out of an Abercrombie and Fitch ad and they had a lot of fun together. Justin took Emma to all the hot Junior parties. As the school year drew to a close, Emma was getting invited to all the fashionable summer parties held by the upperclassmen. Soon the entire group was a frequent fixture on the Manchester teen party scene.

Parties were easy to hold in a town where parents were often never at home. Kids wasted their ample allowance on booze and other popular drugs. When children were spoiled from a young age with everything they could possibly desire, in high school they turned to alcohol to have a good time.

Sakura was never one for the loud, crowded parties. The first party she went to was with Emma and KT. She only went because Emma didn't want to go alone and KT didn't want to be alone with Emma at a party. Sakura wanted to know what it was like so she agreed. She got dressed up, a silk French Connection halter and Calvin Klein jeans, put on make up and did her hair. Justin and Emma came to her house and picked her up at nine. They drove down the Interstate at eighty miles an hour, blasting The All American Rejects on Justin's eight hundred dollar custom Jeep stereos.

The party was at some senior's parent's beach house in Hull. When they got there, Sakura remember how the ground was shaking from the loud music. There were lights everywhere and a large bonfire was lit behind the house on the beach. Everyone who was anyone was there; all the popular senior boys Sakura secretly had crushes on; all the beautiful senior girls Sakura secretly wished to be. When she was there, dancing with her friends on the beach, a cocktail in hand, laughing, screaming, Sakura felt vibrant and happy. Nothing mattered except that moment when she was dancing, when she was laughing; nothing else mattered. People walked by them and looked at them like they were somebody. The lifestyle seemed so decadent and charming and mysterious to her that she was immediately drawn to it.

So it started. It began with just one party, just one drink, just one joint. But pretty soon, they were taking turns holding each other's hair as they puked over perfectly trimmed bushes. Halfway through the summer, all the parties looked and felt the same. It was all a haze. There was loud music, dancing, drinking games, and a lot of drunken horny teenagers.

Sakura let herself go that summer. She didn't care what her dad would think of her; she didn't care if it was illegal. It was never about peer pressure. Sakura never did any of it because her friends partied. She did it because she enjoyed it. She did it because it felt good. Within the fog of alcohol, expensive perfumes, and loud dance music, she felt young, reckless and incredibly _alive_.

It was that summer which took their innocence.

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The girls also got with their first boyfriends "that" summer. Sakura remember meeting Mark at one of the parties. Mark was the youngest son of a prominent banking family and he was only a year older than Sakura. That night they were both a little tipsy, he asked her to dance and at the end of the night they had exchanged phone numbers and screen names. Mark was her first—her first boyfriend, her first kiss, her first everything. He was cute and tall and a football player. Sakura thought he was perfect; she thought she might be falling in love.

When the school year started, Mark was busy with football practice and Sakura was busy with cheerleading. She had just made the varsity cheerleading team and she was determined to do her best. Mark was playing on the varsity football team. They saw each other at games and Sakura cheered on her boyfriend on the field. But they were two different people in school. They didn't have the same classes, the same friends. Mark was also a member of Big Brother, Big Sister, while Sakura was a volunteer with youth gymnastics; so they rarely had time to see each other on weekends. By the end of October, Sakura knew that Mark was really just a summer fling. Although she was extremely sad when they finally broke up in November, she knew that it was the right thing to do.

Tomoyo also met her first boyfriend that summer: Eriol Hiiragisawa–Tomoyo's emotional equivalent of the Great Crash of 1929. Eriol's family had come of old money; he had been from a line of well established, very historic English aristocracy. Eriol had an extraordinary upbringing. He had spent most of his childhood traveling the world while being home schooled by a family tutor. His family had a beautiful estate in Manchester, a massive, that is by Boston standards, fifteen acres. Eriol was in their grade and all the girls adored him.

Tomoyo and Eriol hit it off at a party in Nantucket. It was August in a particular sweltering Bostonian summer, so most Manchester students who were not traveling overseas stayed at their family summer homes on Cape Cod, Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket. Tomoyo had been acquaintances with Eriol in school as they were both in the same English class.

For their first date, Eriol had taken Tomoyo sailing on his family boat. Sakura remembered seeing Tomoyo after her date; Tomoyo had been so happy, so vivacious—"It was perfect, Sakura, perfect," she remembered Tomoyo's words.

But as the months passed, Eriol and Tomoyo's relationship became building a house of cards. It was a fact universally known that youth cannot be trusted. Many girls at school were jealous of Tomoyo; they had long been Eriol's admirers and hated Tomoyo for being his girlfriend. They dated for over six months—three of those were spent fighting with each other.

It was one of those train wrecks of a breakup that when finally after the dust had settled, no one was left standing. They didn't know where they had gone wrong. In fact they had forgotten how they had begun and why they had ended. After you had invested so much into a relationship, given someone else so much, trusted them with everything there was, only to have it crashing down around you, there was nothing left.

Sakura remembered those grueling months at the end of sophomore year. Tomoyo was a mess. Strange how the people you loved best turn out to be the ones who hurt you the most. After Eriol, Tomoyo never let anyone else get close enough to hurt her. Rather, she became a serial dater. Tomoyo had four boyfriends that following summer and numerous flings. Meaningless relationships, nameless guys—Tomoyo partied harder, drank more. She became cynical, disdainful and detached. When junior year started, Tomoyo had changed so completely that even Sakura had trouble recognizing her.

It was true what they said: the first cut was the deepest.

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"Hey!" someone was calling her from down the hall. "Sakura!"

It was seven thirty on a Monday morning and Sakura was not in a mood to tolerate any drama. She had just gotten to school and she was running late, as usual. It was a good thing that she had study hall first period today. She still had to finish a worksheet for Spanish.

The past weekend had been an interesting one. Friday night was the Homecoming dance and the dreadful after party. Saturday, she spent trying to get over her hangover with her friends and still, somehow, managed to show up to her volunteer job at youth gymnastics in the afternoon. Sunday had been homework, homework, homework—it wasn't easy taking five AP courses—plus writing an article for the school newspaper. She felt tired and rundown. It was only October but she could tell junior year was going to be complete and utter hell.

Despite the student's constant partying and reckless activities, Manchester was still home to extremely successful and ambitious parents who accept nothing less from their children. So along with the parties and drinking, the students were also competitive in high school in order to get into the nation's top colleges. Everyone had high expectations to meet. After all, a quarter of the student body was to inherent and run multimillion businesses one day; and the rest was expected to become no less successful in life than any of their parents.

"What?" she asked irritably as she turned around. "Oh! Christian."

"Yeah, it's me. I've been looking for you all morning. What the fuck happened to you at Nick's party last Friday? One moment you were there and the next you were gone," Christian asked, a little angry. Sakura couldn't help but take a little pleasure in the fact that he had missed her.

"I left with my friends," Sakura started. "I guess you were too busy to notice." Fuck, it was too early for this.

He paused, as to figure out what to say next. "I thought you were my date," he finally replied.

Christian Sawyer was hot, plain and simple. This morning he was dressed in a collared shirt from Armani Exchange and faded Guess jeans which hang low but just right around his hips. He looked good. Christian made captain of the varsity soccer team despite him being only a junior. He has dark brown hair and striking blue eyes, which depending on the day sometimes also seem gray. But he was also popular with the ladies and notorious for breaking up with girls. Sakura had been surprised when Christian asked her to go with him to Homecoming. She didn't think she was his type. But, somehow, she secretly carried the faint hope that maybe Christian liked her but his behavior at the party had given her solid evidence otherwise.

"Yeah, I did too," Sakura said. The words became out as only a whisper. She surprised by how hurt she sounded and how hurt she actually felt. Sakura had spent the entire weekend avoiding the subject. Fuck, why do things like this happen to her? Now she is coming off like a complete ass in front the one person she wanted to think that she didn't give a fuck.

Christian looked a bit shocked by her response. He ran his hand through his hair. "Look, if you mean Julie, I'm really sorry," he said. "I was like completely smashed and like, you know like how these things are. You go with someone but like go home with someone else."

"Whatever," she looked away.

"All right, but I'm still really, really sorry. Okay?"

She nodded.

"I better get to class before Hamilton gets really pissed," Christian said as he glanced at the clock at the end of the hallway. Classes had already started about two minutes ago. "I'll see you around."

As Sakura watched Christian walk away, for only a moment, she allowed the feelings of self loathing and anger wash over her. A part of her wanted to yell and scream at him for making out with another girl, another part of her wanted to cry for the exact same reason. All a guy would ever do was to break your heart. She felt numb again.

Sakura didn't care what they said. A cut was a cut and they all hurt like hell.

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**Author's Note:** Here we are for background. Syaoran enters next chapter.

This chapter describes how Sakura and her friends came to be reckless partying juniors in high school. This is the truth. This is exactly how it happens to high school students everywhere (although, I suppose I'm from an older generation, from what I'm hearing now it is starting in middle school). You start off thinking that you are not going to be trapped by it. In the beginning you think its fun, you are curious and you just want to know what it is like; you are even attracted to it. But before you know it, you become one of them and you don't even notice it.

Drinking is a big problem with teenagers. It can be dangerous because most teenagers don't care or know how to drink safely. And adults tell you that it's because of peer pressure—don't drink just because your friends drink, drinking doesn't make you "cool." It is part of the reason, but the real reason (at least what I have come to believe from personal experience) is that it just feels good. Teenagers are under a lot of pressure and mix that with raging hormones and the next thing you know, everybody's drunk. When you are drunk you don't care and everything's more fun. Now, I am not in any way advocating drinking. It's just a way for kids to deal with their problems. They get drunk to have fun because when they are sober they are too preoccupied/depressed/angst-y to really have fun.

Drinking is not a healthy way to deal with your problems. In fact, it is the way to becoming an alcoholic, which I'm afraid to say a lot of my friends are or slowly becoming. So, please don't turn to alcohol or drugs to have fun. You know, things are a lot more fun when you can actually remember them the morning after. Or when you are not on the bathroom floor with your head stuck in a toilet for an hour. Alcohol, it might feel good for a while, but it never lasts. And the next day you are going to be hangover and miserable. Is that really worth it? Trust me, it's not. And do your liver a favor; you need your liver.

Wow, all my notes are turning from one lecture after another. I'm sorry. I always feel to need to explain myself because I don't want someone to read this story and get the wrong idea. I'm not advocating underage drinking and illegal drug use. The point of this story is to discourage it.

Please review before you leave.


	4. Nothing Unusual, Nothing Strange

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**Four.** _Nothing Unusual, Nothing Strange_

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It was nine o'clock and Sakura wanted to vomit.

Halloween used to be one of her favorite times of the year, but now it was just another drunken haze. When she had first moved to Manchester with her family, she went trick-or-treating with her big brother. She always dressed up as a princess; her father humored her by splurging on a new gown every year. But now, in high school, the last day of October has lost all its earlier innocence. Now Halloween meant dressing up or rather, dressing down—really, really _down_. Halloween is the only time of year when a girl can dress like a slut and get away with it.

Earlier in the week, Sakura and Tomoyo had gone shopping together for their Halloween costumes. Tomoyo had picked out a black lacey corset from Victoria's Secret, fishnets, and five inch black Steve Madden stilettos.

With a sour smile, Sakura had asked, "What are you suppose to be?"

Tomoyo had only shrugged and cooed, "Who cares."

Sakura eventually came home from the shopping trip with a tiny leopard print satin tube dress that was most likely shorter than her smallest mini-skirt. She did not know whether or not the dress merited as a costume but she didn't care anymore.

The Fielding twins, Elizabeth and Victoria, were throwing a big house party for Halloween; the whole school was going to be there. After Homecoming, the twins had been passing out invitations. The theme was haunted mansion. Rumor had it that they had hired a professional party planner to decorate. There was also both a DJ and a band booked for the evening.

She was suddenly grateful that Halloween fell on a Friday this year. Because, seriously, it was only nine o'clock and she wanted to fucking vomit. Sakura started partying at five o'clock with the girls. They met up at Tomoyo's house to get ready and dress up. After which, they proceeded promptly to get as high as they possibly can. Tomoyo shut off the fire alarm in her room and they sat around in a circle on Tomoyo's king size bed, passing around a joint.

It around the fifth hit Sakura took that she started to get really mellow. Sakura didn't smoke that often, not like Alex or KT. Sakura liked being high but she never handled smoking very well. It was hard on her throat and she usually coughed a lot while smoking. She always ended up with a sore throat the next morning.

The rest of the night became a blur. Somehow they got to the Halloween party, where, still high, Sakura also proceeded to get extremely drunk. Weed made Sakura really very mellow and she giggled softly to herself at things that didn't really make much sense.

When she looked at her cell phone for the time, it was suddenly nine o'clock and she wanted to vomit. It must have been the punch she drank too much of. It was too fruity and it colored her lips red. Weed and alcohol never mixed very well for her. The music was loud and made the ground vibrate. She couldn't tell if it was the drinks that made her lightheaded or the thumping music or the weed or the dancing or the screaming or a combination of all the aforementioned things.

Tomoyo tugged her hand and led her from one crowded room to another. From Tomoyo's slowed pace, Sakura could tell that Tomoyo was just as far gone as she was. They suddenly stopped when Tomoyo started to talk to some guy. Sakura lingered behind her, bored and slightly annoyed—all the boys wanted to talk to Tomoyo. The drink in her hand was almost gone, so Sakura downed it in one gulp, even though she wanted to throw up.

She jumped when a cool arm encircled her from behind in a friendly hug. Sakura spun around and smiled. "Christian!"

He smiled back. "Hey there, beautiful."

"What's up?" she asked; his arms were still around her and she hated the effect it was having on her.

"Nothing much, you know, same old. What about you?" he was still smiling.

She shook the empty Solo cup in her hand. "I'm out," she told him, blushing, and still terribly aware of the arm he has around her waist.

Christian leaned forward and whispered against her ear, "Wanna dance?"

"Okay," she breathed back and breathed in the scent of the particular brand of cologne he wore. Somewhere in her mind warning signs were flashing but she ignored them all. In this moment, within the drug and alcohol induced haze, she wanted to be in Christian's arms and wanted, more than she should, his tongue against her lips.

He took the cup from her hand and tossed it carelessly aside. He led her a few step away to a slightly less crowded area of the room just as a hip-pop track started blasting. Sakura moved with the music, moved against him. Her hands found their way to the expanse of his back and she pulled him closer—their bodies grinding against each other; his hand digging into the small of her back.

Christian laid a trail of kisses from her neck to her shoulder. She let out a soft moan and turned as to allow him better access. Sakura wasn't sure what was happening only that she wanted it to keep going. Christian slipped his hand beneath her chin, lifting her lips up to meet his.

Sakura wasn't really one of those girls, but sometimes she wished that she was. Emma could go through four boys in one night and wouldn't even blink. Sakura wanted to be emotionally detached. She wanted to kiss Christian right now and have it mean nothing tomorrow morning.

Christian was kissing her and she was kissing him back. They had stopped dancing; now, they just stood still, fully absorbed in tasting each other. His hand came up to cup the back of her neck and the other hand lost in her hair.

Suddenly something clicked in the back of Sakura's mind, surfacing from the fog. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss and it was incredible personal. Sakura wasn't one of those girls. She could not kiss Christian like this and have it mean nothing tomorrow. She felt nauseous.

"Stop." She pushed him away.

He looked confused. "Come on, baby," he slurred. "Come home with me."

Sakura definitely felt sick to her stomach. "I can't," she blurted over the music and bolted for the bathroom.

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It turned out that the line for the bathroom was obscenely long. So, Sakura made a run for the backyard. She burst into the cold night air and for a moment hated herself for wearing a nonexistent dress.

The giant sliding glass door slammed shut behind her and an unfamiliar silence fell around her. The noise of the party had been pushed away into what it felt like a bad dream.

"Shit," she muttered and tried to take deep breaths in order to alleviate the twisting nausea. Sakura felt numb to the bitter autumn air. It was a clear sky and she looked up into the cloudless sky at the stars, suddenly unable to appreciate their beauty. The world felt like it was slipping away. The vertigo was catching up to her. Sakura couldn't remember the last time she was this messed up. Hell, she couldn't even think straight. She bent forward to brace herself against her knees, unsure of her ability to stand. Her stomach gave a violent lurch.

"Um, sorry, I didn't see you out here," a voice said behind her.

Sakura turned around to see a tall auburn haired guy looking at her earnestly. She hadn't heard the door slide because she was too busy concentrating on breathing. She didn't say anything but the look on her face probably gave her away because the boy looked concerned.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asked alarmed.

Sakura nodded quickly. She didn't trust herself to actually say something because she was afraid that as soon as she would open her mouth she might end up puking all over the ground.

He didn't look convinced. The glass door slid shut behind him as he walked closer to her. "Can I—are—you don't look good," he finally said.

Sakura gave him a weak smile and pushed the hair out of her green eyes. "I'm fine," she managed to say softly.

"Can I get you something?" he asked unconvinced. "Maybe some water?"

She wanted to shake her head but then her stomach gave one last unstoppable heave. Unable to prevent it, Sakura bent over the nearest bush and emptied the contents of her twisting stomach. She only felt slightly better after it was done. But before she could properly react to what had happened the auburn haired guy was thrusting some paper napkins into her hands.

"Thanks," she murmured, keeping her eyes glued to the ground. She was so embarrassed. She couldn't believe she had just thrown up like that in front of a complete stranger. Oh God, what happened?

"Are you feeling better?" he asked. The concern was still in his voice.

"Yeah, a little," she replied and took another deep breath. Her stomach calmed. "I'm really sorry. About this."

He shook his head and Sakura caught his striking amber eyes in the little light coming through the lofty glass doors. "It's no problem."

She felt cold, now, instead of numb and everything had stopped spinning. Sakura folded her arms in front of her and looked away, still ashamed of herself. She was blushing furiously. "I'm so sorry," she repeated.

"You really shouldn't stand out here in the cold," the guy said instead.

At these words, Sakura looked up and studied his face. She suddenly smiled; it was the first real smile in a long time. "You're probably right."

"I'm Syaoran, by the way," the boy said and returned the smile.

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**Author's Notes:** I want to apologize for the lack of updates to this story. I swear I'm still working on it and the next chapter had already been started.

Unfortunately, marijuana use is very common with high school students. I wanted this story to be real, no pretense and so this is everything. But I want to stress that this is only a story and I don't condone nor encourage drug use.

Please review before you leave!


	5. Syaoran Li

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**Five.** _Syaoran Li_

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Syaoran Li was Hong Kong royalty, Sakura learned a few days later; his family practically owned half of Asia—it seemed that Sakura had been the only person in Manchester who has not heard about the Li family. Apparently, Syaoran was the youngest of his siblings but the only male, making him the apparent heir of the family fortune. His father died many years ago, leaving Syaoran next in line for the reigns of the kingdom. His mother was a formidable woman, who has remained the head of the household since his father's death but it was rumored that this was only until Syaoran came of age.

When Sakura recounted the story of the night, drunken puking mess and all, over the weekend, Tomoyo had laughed. "Way to make an impression, Sakura!" she exclaimed giggling.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I'm classy that way," she replied, blushing.

KT tried to be consoling. "At least you didn't throw up _on_ him," she had said. "I wouldn't worry about it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, you drank, you got sick. It happens all the time."

"Yeah, I know," Sakura sighed.

Tomoyo shrugged. "Sakura, I've held your hair when you were throwing up several times, and I've helped you clean up. Believe me, it's not that bad."

"Yeah, we've all been there before," KT agreed.

Sakura thought that she might be paranoid. She always worried too much—he brother kept telling her that. "I guess it'll at least make a good story," she said to her friends.

On Monday, Sakura bumped into him in the hallway between third and fourth period. He waved hi, giving her a small smile. He was looking very handsome and preppy in a checkered sweater and khaki slacks. Sakura flushed and walked away. She was still too embarrassed by the whole Halloween incident to do anything about it.

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The Li family owned one of the most well known Queen Anne style houses in New England. It was recently featured in _Home & Garden_. It was one of the only genuine 19th century Queen Anne's in Manchester. Currently, Sakura was told, Syaoran lived there alone with his butler.

Sakura had been surprised when she found out about this. Sakura knew the house well. It was some way down the street from her own home. She drove by it often, passing it her whole life. It had been unoccupied for most of the time she remembered and the house remained dark and inhuman—the way that homes get when their owners were away for too long, like it was soulless.

Like most houses in Manchester, it was big enough to be a small mansion. But its strange shingle Queen Anne architecture had imprinted itself upon her memory. The house looked like it was the setting of some old Victorian novel. The house was painted a dark blue; it had such an irregular shape that it looked like it had been expanded upon several times throughout the last century. Its asymmetrical shape made it difficult to discern exactly how many floors there were, but there were at least four. The most striking features were the large turret on its right, giving the impression of a medieval castle tower, and the wrap around porch.

Sakura remembered that whenever the house was occupied, there would be lovely white wicker patio furniture set out on the long porch and beautiful potted plants would hang from the porch's ceiling. The house almost looked like a home. But its occupants would never stay too long; a few weeks during the summer and the house would be deserted again for years. Every now and then, Sakura would catch a cleaning service at the house; no doubt dusting the unused furniture and changing the untouched sheets. The grounds were kept pristine by a hired gardener who came every couple of weeks, so the house never looked abandoned.

Sakura had always been puzzled by this. Queen Anne houses were notorious for being very difficult and exorbitantly expensive to maintain. Why would a family bother to upkeep a house and its grounds when they never lived in it?

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"I heard that his family already arranged for him to like marry the Japanese princess after he finished college," Emma told her on Wednesday. Her loud whispers were heard by half of their AP English Language class. Sakura glanced around her classmates; talking about other people always made her nervous. But Emma was always one for good gossip and half the time Sakura didn't know what to believe.

Tomoyo, sitting on Emma's other side, rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious!" Emma exclaimed in another loud whisper. "The Fieldings take annual ski trips with my family and Daniel had done business with the Li Clan in Hong Kong, you know, something about trying to get into the Asian hotel market." Emma recalled confidently. Daniel Fielding, father of the Fielding twins, was the COO of Bergstrom Luxury Hotels and old family friend of the Thompsons.

Then Emma lowered her voice even more; an astonishing feat for a gossip monger. In a dark tone she said: "Daniel said he had been through martial arts training since he could walk and he could kill in ten seconds flat. That's why he had to leave Hong Kong. He got into a fight with some boys at his old boarding school and nearly killed someone. In order to hush it up, his mother sent him away. Why do you think he lived alone with his butler?"

Emma looked decidedly pleased with herself having shared her little secret. Then she added, "So be careful Sakura."

Now Sakura rolled her eyes. "Why should I be careful? It's not like he knows me or anything. We barely talk; we met exactly once and I almost threw up all over him. There's nothing to be careful about."

Emma smiled wickedly. "Oh I wouldn't know about that," she sing-songed. "I saw him staring at you all through lunch today."

Red rose to her cheeks. "He did not!" Sakura angrily whispered without knowing why she was angry. She immediately looked to Tomoyo.

Tomoyo merely shrugged and said softly, "Sakura honey. You have to give yourself a little bit more credit."

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On Thursday, after a long afternoon at cheerleading practice, Sakura took a detour on her way back home. She drove pass the dark blue Queen Anne house, looking foreboding against the surrounding grounds. Unsurprisingly, most of the windows were lit.

Sakura wondered about Syaoran and the Li Clan, about his formidable mother on the other side of the world, about his other life somewhere far away from Manchester, about his schoolmate who almost died and about the city of Hong Kong: busy and alive and mystifying.

She wondered if he ever felt homesick for his mother, like the way Sakura felt sometimes: a deep heaviness in the back of her throat, like she was missing something she would never find. She wondered what he was missing.

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**Author's Notes:** I feel like all I do is apologize in these author's notes and I'm afraid I am going to apologize again. Over a year later, here is finally an update. I do hope you liked reading it.

For the few of you who still follow my stories, I feel as though I own you an explanation. I am currently in my third year of college; it has been busy, crazy, full, amazing and I barely had time to sleep or eat. I plan on finishing this story, so look out for hopefully more frequent updates. Although I make no iron clad promises (who knows what might come up?), but the plan so far is to update every other month (I hope, I hope!). All these years in the CCS fandom had made these characters so familiar to me; especially being an avid fanfiction-er. It's hard for me to give these characters up because they represent so much for me—a piece of childhood really.

I feel like through writing this story that I've gotten to "know" Sakura and Syaoran better. The few of you who still follow my stories—thank you, it means a lot to me—will know that I write almost exclusively ExT. I do hope sincerely that in the end, I will be able to do these wonderful characters justice.

It's been a while. I wish you all well.


	6. Everyone Has a Story

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**Six.** _Everyone Has a Story_

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Junior year was stressful. Sakura was still putting together her _list_—the list of colleges she was planning on applying to, divided into three sections of "reach," "just right," and "safety" schools—and she felt terribly under prepared. It seemed like everyone else at school already had their _lists_ ready since elementary school.

Although her father never said anything, she knew that he had always harbored the silent hope of Sakura attending Harvard. Her older brother, Touya, had just graduated from Harvard the year before _summa cum laude_ in economics and history. He was currently at a prestigious internship at the United Nations headquarters in New York City; he had already been accepted into Yale Law, which he will be attending next fall. Sakura has always been very proud of her brother. But she has always known that she was not like him. Harvard was absolutely out of the question for her.

Tomoyo didn't talk about college but everyone knows she would be accepted into Princeton. Tomoyo was smart and driven enough to go to any school she wanted. But Princeton was a certainty since it had been her mother's alma mater; the Daidouji family had been one of the university's most generous benefactors.

KT had always wanted to attend Yale. But given her parents' ties with Harvard Medical, KT would most likely be pressured to go to Harvard anyways. Alex has been considering schools on the West Coast and Emma would most likely end up going to university in the UK.

Sakura stared at her list. Nine schools so far and none of them were places she truly saw herself. Suddenly angry, she exited out of the Word document. She stared at the empty pink background of her Mac Book and wondered why she was always the one who couldn't figure it out.

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"What do you think about Boston College?" Sakura's father asked over dinner, seemingly out of the blue.

Sakura frowned over her barely touched lasagna. "I don't know," she replied, because well, she really didn't.

Fujitaka tried again, "Amherst College? That's not too far away. It's a great place to go especially if you are unsure of what you want to study."

"I—Dad, I'm working on it," she replied and poked at her lasagna. Sakura had gained two pounds over the last three days and decided that it was time for a diet. She couldn't afford to gain more weight.

"Is there something wrong with the lasagna, honey?"

She shook her head. "No, it's delicious. I'm just not very hungry."

"Are you feeling all right?" Fujitaka asked, concerned.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. I'm just tired I guess. This year has been really stressful so far."

He nodded slowly. "I know, it's a tough time of the year. You do know you can talk to me anytime, right? I'm always here for you."

Sakura studied her father's face; he looked genuinely worried. Suddenly she felt the room shift a little. Sakura had always been very good about concealing things from her family—not that she wanted to, in particular, but because things were just easier if her father didn't know about all the details. She didn't really know how to talk to her dad. They were very close when she was younger. But as she got older, she found herself with less and less to say to him. There are just things that she couldn't talk about with her dad. As the years passed, she found that she was holding back so much from him that she ended up holding back everything.

"Dad, I'm fine," she said and forced herself to smile. "Thanks though."

Fujitaka nodded. "And if you have questions about college, anything at all, just let me know," he added. "I can put you in contact with my colleagues at the university too, if you have questions about undergraduate work in other departments."

Sakura poked at her lasagna again. A heavy guilt settled in her stomach. "Yeah, Dad," she said uncommittedly. "Yeah, that would be great."

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The first snow of the year fell the Monday before Thanksgiving.

It started during second period and continued through the day. By the time Sakura finally got out of cheerleading practice late that afternoon, there was at least a foot of snow on the ground.

Emma, her only close friend on the squad, had already gotten a ride back home with her boyfriend, Max Barnet. Or least, Sakura thought he was her boyfriend. Emma usually had a different boy every couple of weeks; it was hard to keep track. In retrospect, Sakura should have gotten a ride with them when Emma offered.

Instead, Sakura volunteered to stay later to clean up after practice; it was their last practice before the big Thanksgiving game. Sakura stuffed her uniform into her gym bag and braced for the worst when she finally headed out to the student parking lot. It was five and almost completely dark outside. The snow was still coming down. The storm must have caught everyone by surprise because no one had been prepared to do road maintenance. Sakura took one look at her silver Pathfinder buried in the snow and knew there was no way she could possibly get it out.

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"Hi Dad, it's me. I'm like kind of stuck at the high school because my car's been completely buried in the snow. Can you come pick me up on your way back from the university? Thanks, bye," Sakura flipped her cell phone shut and looked outside angrily. The snow as coming down hard.

She settled down on the steps in the darkened lobby, sat her gym bag beside her. Maybe Tomoyo or KT has time to pick her up.

"Um hey."

Sakura spun around. "Syaoran?"

He looked nervous and ran a hand through his ridiculously messy auburn hair. "Snowed in?" he asked.

Sakura nodded. "Yeah, my car's like buried."

"Me too," he replied and sat down beside her on the lobby steps. He turned to look at her, "Do you want a ride? Someone's coming to pick me up in a bit."

She looked down at her hands. "Yeah, that'd be great! I'm having trouble reaching my dad," then turning toward him, "Thank you."

"No problem. So where do you live?"

"On Linden, near Sheppard's Lake," she replied. Her house was a beautiful white two story in the Colonial revival style.

Syaoran's eyes widened. "That's insane! I live around there too. My house must be only a couple of houses down from your house. You know, the weird looking blue one."

"I know that house! The Queen Anne? I always wondered who lived there," she laughed. "I've passed by it my entire life and always wanted to know more about it. I mean, it's such a strange house, but really beautiful."

"It's been in the family for generations," he explained. "Apparently my great-grandfather built it when he was doing business here, back when Boston was a major port. The story goes that he fell in love with the governor's daughter and built the house for her."

"Did they ever live there together?" she wanted to know.

Syaoran flushed. "Nah," he chuckled. "Apparently things didn't really work out. He had to go back to London for his business. When he came back, she was already married to someone else. But he decided to keep the house around in memory of their love. They say that he use to stay at the house whenever he came around Boston because he still loved her; she was always the one who got away. In his will, he stipulated that the house always be under the care of the family. So I guess we are stuck with it."

"That's a wonderful," Sakura exclaimed. A warm weight settled in her chest like back when she was a little girl and someone had just read her a fairy tale. "I knew a house like that had to have a story!" She clasped her hands together excitedly.

Something about her words stopped him. He squinted, studied her face. "Yeah? You think so?"

Sakura nodded. "Everyone has a story," she replied.

"Hm," he considered it and turned towards the doors that overlooked the pick-up area. The snow was still coming down hard; everything had been washed white. "Does it usually snow this much in November?"

"No, thankfully."

"Freak storm?"

"Something like that."

"Wei's here," Syaoran pointed as a black town car pulled in slowly in front of the entrance. "Come on, we'll take you home."

Wei turned out to be a stern looking man who introduced himself as Master Li Syaoran's caretaker and tutor. He was impeccably groomed and stepped out from the driver's seat into the raging storm to open the back doors for them to get in.

Sakura felt a little strange being waited on. "Um, thanks," she muttered.

"It's no problem," Wei replied graciously. "Miss—?"

"This is Sakura Kinomoto," Syaoran supplied, turning and beaming at her.

"Yes, of course," Wei nodded as he climbed back into the driver seat. "Where to, Miss Kinomoto?"

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"Hi Dad, it's me. You must be stuck on the roads. But I got a ride from a friend. Don't worry about me, I'm already home. See you later."

Shutting off her phone, Sakura looked out the lobby window into the driveway as the black town car slowly made its way down the street. She watched the car disappeared into the trees and falling snow and wanted, more than anything, to know Syaoran Li's story.

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**Author's Notes:** Okay so I admit that a snow storm is a bit of an ill contrived plot device to get two of our protagonists to spend some quality time together. But I'll have you know that a few years ago I did get stuck at school during a snow storm and ended up having to talk to someone for an hour.

I hope to continue work on this story whenever I have free time, which is actually about once in a blue moon. I'm spending a semester studying abroad in Budapest, Hungary coming up in January. So things are a little crazy around here.

Please review before you leave!


	7. Thanksgiving

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**Seven****.** _Thanksgiving_

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Touya came home for Thanksgiving on Wednesday morning. His flight from New York City landed just before lunch time and Sakura drove to Logan Airport to pick him up. She beamed when she saw him at his gate.

"Hey there kaiju!" He enveloped her in a tight hug. "I missed you."

Sakura laughed and kissed her brother on the cheek. _Kaiju_, which meant monster in Japanese, had always been his nickname for her since they were little. "I missed you too! How was your flight?" she asked.

"Pretty good," he replied. "How've you been?"

She grabbed his only piece of luggage, a small duffle which had been his carry-on. "You know, same old--Dad's brothering me about colleges and I'm taking too many AP classes for my own good."

Touya smirked. He looked more like Fujitaka with each year that passed. Now that he had grown out of his awkward lanky phrase, he was beginning to fill into his 62 frame. Touya looked more handsome; the lines of his face were sharper, more distinguished. His dark brown eyes looked like they were somehow older, wiser, like their father. She suddenly wondered whether when Touya looked at her, he saw their mother. Sakura was the only one to have inherited her green eyes. She quickly looked away.

"Right," he said slowly. "You can't fool me with that good girl act, kaiju. I know you've been partying it up with your friends, probably staying out all night now, aren't you?" he teased.

"Nothing of the sort," she swatted his arm and laughed a little louder than she intended. Her brother was closer to the truth than she wanted to admit to herself. "C'mon, let's get you home."

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Tomoyo always joined the Kinomoto family for Thanksgiving.

Her father had died when she was very young; her mother, the CEO and founder of a major toy conglomerate, never remarried. Sonomi Daidouji was one of the wealthiest and most powerful women in the world. She lived in four different time zones and almost impossible to get a hold of. Her business made it challenging for her to spend time with Tomoyo. Thanksgiving was one of the holidays sacrificed for her job. The Asian markets dont close because its Thanksgiving in America, Sonomi used to tell Tomoyo.

On Thanksgiving, Tomoyo usually went to the high school football game with KT and Alex, while Sakura and Emma were on the cheerleading squad. Manchester High had a very long rivalry with their neighboring town, Kingston High, so the Thanksgiving Day football game was always a big deal.

However, this Thanksgiving Sakura never saw Tomoyo at the game. When she snuck out during halftime to meet KT and Alex. Neither of them had any idea where Tomoyo was.

"I called her earlier and she never answered her phone," Alex said. "I thought maybe she already left with KT."

"And I thought she left with you," KT replied. "It's not like her to not answer any of our calls and texts."

Sakura frowned. "Do you think she's all right? Maybe we should go over to her house and check?"

KT shook her head. "I dropped by before the game to ask her to get coffee but everyone at her house said they haven't seen her all morning."

Now Sakura was seriously concerned. "Where could she be?"

"Doesn't she usually go to your house for Thanksgiving dinner?" KT asked.

Sakura nodded.

"I'm sure she'll show up then. We'll really start worrying if you don't see her for dinner," KT said.

"Yeah, I think so too," Alex agreed.

"Okay, I hope she's okay," Sakura told her friends before her cheerleading coach called her away.

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Tomoyo did show up for dinner. The doorbell rang just as it was getting dark. But when Sakura greeted Tomoyo at the door, she immediately knew something was wrong.

"Oh my God!" Sakura exclaimed in horror as she quickly tugged Tomoyo upstairs to her room. "Oh my God. You're _drunk_!"

Tomoyo stumbled against the stairs and giggled loudly. "Okay, so I _might_ have had a bottle of wine earlier." Her voiced drawled.

"_Might_?" Sakura shoved Tomoyo into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. "Oh my God!" she was freaking out. "Its not even five in the afternoon, Tomoyo! How long have you been drinking?"

Tomoyo swayed on her feet. Her brilliant purple eyes were wild and vacant. "I don't remember. I think I started sometime last night. Maybe a little after midnight."

"_Last night_?" Sakura hear her own voice squeak loudly. Now, she was seriously freaking out. "Oh my God, are you absolutely _out of your mind_? What were you thinking? What--how can you do this to yourself? This is like totally not okay!"

Tomoyo collapsed on her bed and made herself comfortable against Sakura's embroidered white cotton sheets. She was still giggling and didn't seem to hear a thing Sakura said. She was a complete mess. Tomoyo's black sweater dress were wrinkled and it looked like she had slept in them; her usually flawless makeup was smudged; her hair has lost its usual volume. Sakura hadn't seen Tomoyo this out of it since--suddenly, it hit her.

"Oh my God," Sakura grasped in horror. "This is about Eriol isn't it?"

Eriol was the only one who could make Tomoyo come unglued like this. Not even Tomoyo's mother had that sort of power of her.

Tomoyo let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Am I that transparent?" She covered her face with her hand, "I think I need more alcohol."

Sakura climbed onto her bed next to her. "Don't be ridiculous," Sakura put her arm around Tomoyo and kissed her hair. "The last thing you need right now is more alcohol. Oh God, Tomoyo. What the hell happened?"

"I don't even know anymore," Tomoyo muttered, her hand still over her eyes.

Sakura got Tomoyo to take a cold shower and change into a new set of clothe. As she came out of Sakura's bathroom, without the heavy scent of alcohol and freshly dressed, she finally said, "I think I'm still in love with him." Tomoyos eye's, still unfocused from her red wine, scanned the bedroom, looking everywhere except Sakuras eyes.

Sakura didn't know what to say. Eriol used to be one of her good friends, before that breakup. She sighed. "I know, Tomoyo. I know you still do," she said and as soon as the words left her mouth she was surprised to find that they were true. Sakura did know this, knew it in the back of her mind even before Tomoyo realized it. The thing was--the thing between Eriol and Tomoyo--that it has always been inevitable. Sakura knew this clearly, partly because she was a hopeless romantic and partly because she knew Tomoyo like how she knew herself.

Tomoyo sat down at the desk. "What am I going to do?"

"I don't know."

"I saw him last night," Tomoyo finally said. "This is crazy. Am I crazy?"

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Sakura didn't know how she survived Thanksgiving. She was pretty sure Touya knew Tomoyo was drunk all through dinner; something about the covert glances he kept giving them. Tomoyo held it together enough to keep Fujitaka from suspecting anything.

All in all, it wasn't _that_ bad.

On Sunday afternoon, Sakura drove Touya back to Logan Airport for his flight back to New York City.

"You know, it's okay if you are having a hard time," he said, as they drove through the tunnel. "I'm here for you."

Sakura gave her brother a quick sideways glance. "Yeah," she said and tried not to cry.

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**Authors Note:** A much belated update! I am updating a lot more over on LiveJournal though, especially stories in other fandoms. You can add me as a friend (corposant) or you may check my fic archive: community . livejournal . com / 23hummingbirds

Please review!


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